Hush thy vain sighs... I'd mourn the hopes... In the days when we went gipsying. I see them on their winding way.. Isle of beauty, fare thee well. 209 119 237 70 148 164 Kate Kearney.. 18 Kathleen O'More.. 223 Oh! had we some bright little Isle of our own.. 168 O'CONNOR'S CHILD OH! once the harp of Innisfail Of more prevailing sadness. Sad was the note, and wild its fall, Or voice, but from the fox's den, And yet no wrongs, nor fear she fet.: Say, why should dwell in place so wild, O'Conner's pale and lovely child? |